


Turncoat's Illusion

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-31
Updated: 2010-12-31
Packaged: 2019-01-19 02:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12400938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: 15 years after the fall of Grindelwald, magician (and wizard) Gregori Kaminski has been given an ultimatum: Give up his life and dreams as a magician, as well as his lovely muggle assistant-turned-fiancÃ© in order to help Grindelwald return to power, or have his secret exposed during his tour across the States, in the midst of the Cold War.





	Turncoat's Illusion

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

The first rule that everybody knows about magicians: A magician never reveals his secret. A magician’s popularity comes from his ability to make people believe to make them think for a second that magic can really exist, and to keep them thinking this for as long as possible. Each trick a magician does only serves to keep this mentality alive. If he can do this, he is a good magician.

Gregori Kaminski stepped backwards into the large steel box in front of him, making sure not to turn his back on the audience, and charming it to lessen the weight. His balance faltered as Arabella began to push the box across the stage, turning it around, and showing the audience there was no way to escape. He heard the clicks as she locked the door shut multiple times. He quickly soundproofed the box before apparating out of it.

He apparated back into his dressing room, a small room backstage with white walls and mahogany floorboards, where he kept a dove in a small cage on the table. It was the same dove he used every time he did this trick. He had grown quite attached to it. He opened the cage carefully and held his hand out, allowing the dove to hop out of the box and onto his fingers.

The next part had been the hardest part of this trick to master. He had to apparate to just the right spot, back inside the box. Anywhere else, and he would be exposed. He would have to answer to both the American Wizarding Judiciary as well as American nationalists who already distrusted him solely because of his Russian heritage, especially since the Cuban Revolution in the previous year. Tensions were high, and he could not afford to make a mistake. It had taken many trials before he had finally mastered such precise apparition.

Instantly, he found himself back inside the box. He released the dove, and quickly disapparated again, this time to backstage. He brushed small wrinkles out of his tuxedo and took a deep breath. The magic was done. Now, he simply had to wait for his assistant.

He watched from backstage as Arabella unlocked and opened the box, revealing just the single dove flying out. Gregori reached his hand out as he walked back onstage. The audience erupted in applause as the dove landed on his hand again. Arabella beamed at him and he bowed deeply.

 

 

 

 

“That was our best show yet! They haven’t even sat down!” Arabella jumped into Gregori’s arms, a huge smile plastered on her pretty face. They had just gone off-stage, into his dressing room, and he could hardly hear himself think from all the applause. Her arms found their way around his neck and she pulled herself up closer to his face.

“They’re clapping for you, my dear. You were wonderful.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed her on the forehead. It might just be the adrenaline from the successful show they had just had, but he didn’t think he had ever been more in love, with both his lovely fiancé _and_ his profession.

“I just make it more interesting,” Arabella gushed, pulling back so she could see Gregori’s face more easily. “Without you I would be _nothing_.”

“And without you, how would I ever go on?” he played along, pressing his forehead to hers. It was corny, he knew, but he was already so excited about his recent success, and tonight had only helped to fuel that excitement.

The Warner Theater in Washington, D.C. had been their biggest show to date. He had never performed in such a major theater before, and in the nation’s capital, no less. Given his heritage, he felt that in order to be successful in this country, he would first have to be successful in this city.

“Arabella,” he whispered. She let her eyes meet his, their foreheads still pressed together. “Why don’t you go get changed,” he tugged on the hem of her skirt, “and I will meet you back at the hotel. I have some things I need to finish up here and I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.”

She smiled at him. As she turned to leave, she brought her hands up and untied her bun, and her long blonde hair fell down her back. Her curls bounced behind her as she left, and Gregori couldn’t help but watch her leave. He was always captivated by her, but had an easier time controlling it during a show, where he could concentrate on his first great love – magic.

When the door clicked closed, he started taking off his tuxedo. As much as he loved performing, he hated the clothing he had to wear. Underneath the hot lights, he had never been so uncomfortable, yet comfortable at the same time. It was a confusing feeling.

He hung his jacket over a chair and began to untie his bowtie. He was already beginning to feel better, and he was starting to realize the magnitude of this success. Not only was he now becoming a household name, but certainly after this tour was over he would be able to book even greater venues. He couldn’t even imagine where he would be in a year. He had never even expected to be where he was now.

As he unbuttoned his shirt, he thought back to where he was four short years ago, at the very beginning of his career. He had just dropped out of Durmstrang, a year early, and moved to a permanent residence in his home country, Russia, in order to follow his dreams as a magician. At first he just did small street performances, nowhere too busy. His first goal had been to get out of Russia. He knew he would never amount to much if he stayed in his home country. He always daydreamed about going to the States. He didn’t know how it would be different, but he knew that it would be. He had heard stories about this “land of opportunity” and wanted to make a name for himself there.

Two years ago, he had finally saved up enough to pick up his life and move to America. He rented a one-bedroom apartment in New York City, and played small venues, coffee shops, open mics, anywhere he could get noticed. And then, this year, he had booked the Warner Theater, the biggest step in his career since coming to the States.

He sometimes felt like he was cheating – a magician using real magic. All magicians he had seen simply used sleight-of-hand or optical illusions. Gregori found it much easier to make people believe him, as his show was real. They left people wondering for days, _how did he do that?_ He read reviews about his show, calling it “phenomenal” and “amazing” and he never tired of the success.

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he instructed. The door creaked open slowly. Gregori didn’t bother turning to see who it was, surely they would announce themselves.

“Gregori Kaminski,” a voice said behind him. He froze. He hadn’t heard that voice for four years, and, quite frankly, he hadn’t missed it. He finally turned to face the man.

“Anton Brandt. What are you doing here?” Gregori spoke with a sharp tone. He hadn’t expected to see Anton ever again after he left Durmstrang, nor had he wanted to. That part of his life was behind him.

“I have simply come to talk to you,” he stepped forward and closed the door behind him. “I saw your show.”

“And?”

Anton shrugged. “Everyone seemed rather impressed with you. Especially with that last trick.”

His signature trick. “The Steel box,” he called it. It was _his_ trick. The trick he was known for. People came to his show just to see this trick. It had become famous across the States. No one could fathom how he did it, not even the professionals that Gregori used to look up to. It was what landed him The Warner Theater.

“I’m very proud of that trick,” he said.

“You execute it well. You’re quite the performer, Kaminski.”

“Thank you,” Gregori nodded politely, turning back to finish unbuttoning his shirt “May I ask, now, why you are in my dressing room?” He picked up glass of water from the table next to the chair. “We haven’t spoken since I left Durmstrang.”

“You’ve become a very skilled wizard, would you agree?” Anton asked, picking up his own glass and filling it with water.

“No more skilled than you, I’m afraid.”

“Wandless magic is no easy feat, Gregori,” Anton pointed out.

“I never finished my schooling, though. I’ve just become rather good at _using_ my skills.”

“How do you mean, exactly?”

“Being a magician isn’t just about being able to _do_ things. It’s about engaging the audience. You have to be interesting enough to make them _care_ that you can do the things you do. It takes a great deal of creativity,” he said proudly.

“So would you say you’re especially inventive in the things you do? Do you come up with new ideas often?”

Gregori nodded. “I’m always thinking about ways to improve my show. If that means new tricks, I’ll give them new tricks. I might simply improve upon other magician’s tricks, although I would rather have my original work in my show.”

Anton raised his glass to his lips and took a long sip. “I only ask because I’ve been told you’re fairly good at what you do.”

“Told? By whom?”

Anton stepped closer towards him, and Gregori was forced to step back until he was pressed against the wall. Gregori looked at him curiously, but Anton only gave him an indifferent expression before he turned around and took a step over to the table.

“Your assistance has been requested, and I have come to…‘collect’ you, I suppose.” He turned back to Gregori, who wished to have nothing to do with Anton, let alone be “collected” by him. He preferred his past to stay in his past.

“My assistance? Please tell me what is going on. I have places to be.”

Anton placed his glass down on the table and looked Gregori straight in the eyes. “Gellert Grindelwald has called you out by name. He requests your help in leaving Nurmengard.”

 

 

**A/N: This is just an idea I had, let me know what you think!**


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